


Finding Closure

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Daddy Issues, Exes, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Language, Miscommunication, Returning Home, Triggers, Wakes & Funerals, Your dad is an alcholic in this story, he is a neglectful piece of garbage so, please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable, why do i set everything in brooklyn oh wait because it's amazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-02 04:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11501742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: AU. Reader left behind a hometown full of misery to make a new home in Brooklyn. A death in the family forces her to briefly return to the place that has haunted her dreams and memories for three years. Will she finally be able to move on, or will a figure from the past change everything?





	1. Chapter 1

You knew it could only be bad news when your phone rang at three in the morning.

That call was the whole reason you were standing back in your hometown’s local airport, watching the luggage carousel loop around over and over.

Logically, there were a limited number of reasons as to why someone would call at three in the morning. Maybe it was the wrong number, or a butt dial. Maybe someone was drunk, or someone was going into labor. Since your only two friends in the entire world didn’t fit any of those categories, you knew that it was a stranger calling.

Bad news was a relative term, too.

Was it really all that bad? To some the news you received would be devastating. To you, it had been a long time coming, and you were sort of relieved to have the weight of it off your shoulders.

That didn’t stop you from feeling guilty about it, though.

“Hey, friend.”

You looked over at your best friend and roommate as she gave you a gentle smile. Darcy Lewis might be one sarcastic bitch for most people, but with you she always showed kindness without pity.

The difference between your life and Darcy’s was staggering. She grew up in Boston, the daughter of a business tycoon and socialite, set to inherit millions of dollars when they passed away. They kept up her monthly allowance into adulthood, and she’s never wanted for a thing in her life, except maybe friendship.

“Hi, Darce. I’m sorry, I guess I spaced out again.”

Darcy reached a hand out to rub your back gently for a second. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be the tough one today. Let me.”

The running joke between the two of you was there was no way you were some rural kid, since you were as tough as any native New Yorker. Your move to a small two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn had changed your life, your personality, and your outlook tremendously, and meeting Darcy had been a part of that, too.

She could have afforded the Upper East Side, or Downtown Manhattan. The only reason she had even bothered to move to a small apartment in Brooklyn is because she wanted the _hipster experience_ to help her art and photography.

Her ad for a roommate had even said that exact phrase, and you thought it was a joke until you met her.  She opened the door wearing dramatic eye makeup and covered in paint, with a small camera in her hand. Darcy’s impromptu pre-screen interview was full of questions like, ‘ _do you dream in color or black and white?_ ’ and _‘if you had to be a type of architecture what would it be?’_ Her last question was ‘ _Red Sox or Yankees?_ ’

You told her that you didn’t always remember your dreams, but you were pretty sure it was both, and that you didn’t care what kind of architecture you were, as long as you were in New York. 

Oh, and you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about baseball.

Facts and reality were your game. You were an analyst by day, and an over-analyzer by night, and you were damn good at both.

The two of you balanced each other well. She made you remember to enjoy a more colorful life, and you reminded her to bring her feet back down to earth.

Three years later, the two of you were still best friends and still living in that small apartment. She never threw her circumstances in your face, and you never held it against her. On the rare occasion, she would bail you out of your financial woes, but you always paid her back.

Today, you were _so very_ grateful for her. You offered her a smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Just… _tired_.”

“There’s a taxi outside. I told him to stay put for us for an extra twenty bucks.”

The second you saw your bag come around the bend on the carousel, you hauled it to the floor and grabbed the handle. “Good, let’s just get this over with.”

* * *

Early spring always felt the same here.

You were standing on the sidewalk, just outside of the hotel that Darcy had booked for the two of you. It was halfway between your old neighborhood and the airport, declared by her to be a neutral zone to clear your head if you needed to.

Not that you would. This was a clear, cut-and-dry kind of visit. It shouldn’t take long.

Brooklyn had been unseasonably warm, but this place? It was as if the grey winter just wasn’t ready to let go. A crisp chill remained in the air, allowing you to see your breath every time you sighed. Small piles of snow still littered the grass, and you couldn’t help but think to yourself that out here, everything seemed frozen in time.

That was one of the reasons why you left in the first place.

Your hometown was, for lack of a better word, _stuck_. It was stuck in a time that didn’t exist anymore, stuck in an era where the generation above yours refused to change in even the smallest ways, even if humanity begged for them to grow and prosper. You avoided them, you resented them, and most of all you pitied them.

It also didn’t help that bad memories haunted you wherever you walked. Thinking about your childhood usually only brought you down.

Your mother’s unexpected death when you were just two years old left your life in a tailspin, though you were much too young to know it then. Thankfully, you were an only child, because your father’s neglect and subsequent alcohol abuse made you grow up faster than you wanted to.

It wasn’t until you were sixteen years old that everything turned around for you personally. Life at home didn’t change, but you were able to be there less, thanks to…

_No. Nope. Not thinking about him right now._

Your head turned to the left at the sound of Darcy’s boots clicking on the cement path. She gave you a bright smile, and you gave her a small one in return, trying to reassure her that you were still okay.

“So, what’s up first? Should we get this morbid show on the road?”

“First I have to accompany his ashes to the plot next to my mother,” you answered, turning on your heel to walk beside her to the rental car that was dropped off a little bit ago. “I don’t really want to, but I…I can’t imagine…”

The thought of the groundskeeper being the only person at a makeshift funeral kind of made you sad.

“It’s okay. I’ll be there, too.” She unlocked the car and threw the keys to you. “You don’t mind, right? You’re more familiar with the place.”

“I don’t mind,” you assured her, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Driving through town was easy, mostly because there was never any traffic here. You made your way on some winding roads, until the outskirts of your town were finally reached. The same old welcome sign stood at the edge of town, desperately needing some upkeep.

“It’s, um…cute,” Darcy said, staring out the window. “Like in a creepy _Deliverance_ kinda way, but still.”

You laughed for the first time since arriving. “It’s not _that_ bad, but…yeah.”

Familiar locations passed by in your periphery. There was the old post office, and the only market for about ten miles. Houses that used to be familiar to you were now mostly occupied by strangers; some were painted a different color and nearly unrecognizable.

The one place that nearly broke you when you passed was your old high school. You’d tried to think of ten different routes to get around it, to avoid even seeing it, but road construction crews made that impossible.

Darcy picked up on your discomfort, nodding toward the building as you went by. “Did you go there?”

You nodded grimly. “Graduated at the top of my class.”

“Holy shit, no wonder that analytics firm wanted you to work there so much!”

School was absolute garbage on a regular basis, but your high school in particular had little to nothing to offer a student who wanted to advance in a science field. When you specifically requested more computer classes, more _anything_ that would be helpful for you when you graduated, the administrators tossed you into a Home Ec class like it was nothing. You were heartbroken… _until…_

You shook your head, trying to clear thoughts from your brain that you weren’t ready to process.

The brakes squeaked a little as you parked in front of the funeral home. When you didn’t make a move to shut the engine off or get out of the car, Darcy reached over and turned the ignition for you.

She didn’t even mind, sitting there silently with you while you had a death-grip on the steering wheel, trying to find the courage to face your father for the first time for years.

Or, rather, trying to find the courage to face what was left of him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she murmured, laying her head back against the headrest.

You didn’t even blink.

* * *

Hours later, the last of the dirt was tossed unceremoniously over the small vault box you’d chosen for your father’s urn to be laid to rest in. When they thought you weren’t paying attention, you heard the one groundskeeper joke, “Which side goes up?” You couldn’t even muster enough anger to reprimand him, though. He was the product of his less-than-stellar upbringing in this hellhole.

Darcy was having a hell of a time in her fashionable boots, so that kind of lightened the mood. She didn’t know that lingering snow combined with warmer temperatures meant ice melt, and soggy, muddy ground.

“Careful,” you told her, turning away in your much more sensible shoes. “It’s slippy.”

 **“Slippy is not a real word,”** she called out behind you.

 **“Yes it is!** It’s real here. Say it to literally anyone and they will understand.” You rolled your eyes to the sky as you made it back to the car ten times faster than her. “We won’t be here long enough for you to get used to the local vocabulary, though, unless you walk this slowly everywhere we go.”

“Thank goodness,” she muttered to herself as she finally reaching the car. “I never saw this much mud in Boston!”

“Do you realize how pretentious you sound right now?” You eyed her carefully before getting into the car. “You never saw much mud because you never went outside unless it was to your deck or patio or whatever.”

“Pretentious? Maybe. Yet you love me anyway,” she retorted, slipping into the car and shutting the door with a sigh of relief.

You glanced over at her. “You’re right. I really do. Thank you for being here. Thank you for helping me through this.”

Darcy shrugged. “I love you, too. Now, I hope you remember some decent places to eat because I’m freaking starving.”

You knew what this was.

She was trying her best to distract you from falling into a pit of despair, and once again you found yourself counting your lucky stars that you had this wonderful, beautiful, kind-hearted _sarcastic bitch_ as your best friend. 

* * *

The only restaurant you recognized (since so many had closed when the markets crashed years ago) was a little bar and grill down on Main Street. It used to be called Jet’s, but it must have changed ownership, because the name The All-American was emblazoned in neon lights above the door.

By now, the dinner crowd had already arrived, and that included the regulars and the drinkers in town (though to be fair, most regulars _were_ the drinkers).

You didn’t care for crowds, but for Darcy’s sake you’d put up with it. Besides, you’d just come from burying your estranged father. Who gave a shit if the town drunks remembered you?

Darcy led the way this time, fully intent on getting some kind of salad and a glass of wine ‘ _if this place even has such things.’_

You followed feebly, fully intent on getting food and biding your time until you could go to sleep, wake up, and leave this god-forsaken town.

Once you were seated in front of your burger and fries, and Darcy had her house salad with a side of ranch dressing (which she doused the salad with, thereby negating its health benefits), she started in on the questioning.

_What did you do for fun here?_

_Who was your best friend when you were younger?_

_Did you ever leave the town for field trips?_

_No seriously, there’s nothing fun here. What did you do to pass the time? Study? No wonder you’re so smart._

Thankfully, she avoided your family history. She knew a lot of it already, thanks to some tequila-induced confessions back in Brooklyn.

You reached for a french fry in silence, trying to prevent any further questioning for the moment. You didn’t mind talking about it, but you’d prefer questions in small doses.

It wasn’t all that special of a sob story, anyway.

Your mom and dad were high school sweethearts. No one knew she was sick. When she died, he died with her in every way but physically.

He resented seeing you, because you look so much like her. It wasn’t fair, in his eyes, that she was gone but you remained to remind him of what he had lost. He hated that you hated this town. He thought you were an ungrateful, intellectual snob. He didn’t want to see you, didn’t want to remember his pain, so he drank his days away.

He never went to your recitals…never saw you score a goal during your very first soccer game…never chastised any boys for flirting with you…never watched you get your diploma…all because he just _didn’t_ _participate_ in your life.

You didn’t lash out, though. You didn’t become a statistic, didn’t join the crowd doing drugs and sleeping around, even when the offers were tempting. All you’d have to do is picture him, a stumbling mess, shaking his head at you.

The only goal you had in mind was to get out and better yourself, make your life worth living, and you managed to do that somehow.

There was only _one_ person who could have possibly kept you here. If he had asked you to stay, you would have given up everything to spend your life with him. Instead, he broke your heart…he rejected you, he _gave_ _up_ on you, he told you he didn’t love you anymore.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since.

There were nights where you missed him, and you thought maybe you still weren’t over him. You’d lie awake at night letting the what-ifs drown out any rational thoughts. Sometimes you would dream about a life with him by your side, only to wake up far away and completely alone.

Man, there were some nights where your dreams felt so real, like if you reached out you could feel him again. The harsh reality was, you never had any intention on staying here. You didn’t want to, even if he were to come to you right this minute and ask.

That was completely farfetched, though. You knew he never would, not after that night.

Being home only reinforced the idea that you leaving was the best thing for you.

When Darcy finally stopped her interrogation to take a bathroom break, you allowed yourself the time to glance around the room. Most of the patrons were total strangers, including lots of gas well workers that drifted from all over the country to make twice as much cash as they were used to seeing. It was a shame they didn’t hire locally instead, maybe that would kick-start the town’s economy.

You saw a couple of guys who were a few grades below you in school watching a baseball game on the giant television in the corner. It had only been three years, but to see them look almost the same as they did in school was a little unnerving.

For you, High School felt like a lifetime ago, after all.

Some women who were dressed in far too little for this chilly weather were playing pool, while some of the older men stared at them as if it wasn’t a creeper move.

Your eyes flitted from face to face. You had this strange feeling that you were being watched, but no one was meeting your gaze yet. One quick glance to the restrooms told you it wasn’t Darcy making her way back to the table.

That familiar anxious feeling started up again as you kept searching for the source of your discomfort. It took a minute or so, but you finally found it…found _him_.

Your spine stiffened at the sight, and anger started bubbling up inside you.

_You should have known better._

Bucky Barnes was staring at you from across the bar…and he didn’t look happy.


	2. Chapter 2

You were completely put off by the sight in front of you.

 _What right_ did he have to glare at you like that? Anger coursed through your system, and you wanted nothing more than to go over there and point out to everyone in the restaurant exactly why Bucky Barnes was the _biggest_ _douchebag_ in town.

“Whoa, easy there killer.”

Darcy moved to stand beside you, her eyes following your line of sight right to Bucky.

He had the decency to turn around and pretend he didn’t notice you. If only he’d offered the same courtesy to you all those years ago, back when you first laid eyes on him.

“Okay, who is Mr. Long Hair, and why are you trying to murder him with your eyeballs?” she asked, pulling on your sleeve to get attention.

“It’s no one,” you muttered, turning away. “Are you done yet? Can we go?”

“Ah, I see what this is.” Darcy gave you a knowing grin. “Did you guys bone in the back of a Chevy on Makeout Point or whatever happens to rural kids in crappy teen movies?”

“Can we please just-“

“No, I wanna know! Come on! It’ll be therapeutic! Did you pull on that long hair of his and-”

“Darcy, _please_. I don’t want to stay here anymore. It’s been a horrible day…can we go?”

“I will absolutely leave this place if you sit down and explain to me why you hate that dude.”

You stared at her for a second, but her expression told you she was serious. She was being such a pain in the ass right now.

“Fine.” You leaned forward so that you could lower your voice a little. “His name is James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone calls him Bucky. He’s…that man is my ex-boyfriend.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I gathered that from the instant fury in your eyes.” She leaned over, too. “So how did he wrong ya, ma’am?”

“We do _not_ talk like that here,” you muttered, glancing back up as Bucky slid off the bar stool and made his way over to the two women playing pool.

_Great._

“Anyways, he and I started dating in high school.”

“I gathered that.”

“Can you not interrupt, please? It’s hard enough to talk about.”

Her eyes widened. “Sorry.”

You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead a little. “I’m sorry for snapping, I just…” Your eyes flickered over to where Bucky was now playing pool and showing off a little for what was now a small crowd of women. 

_Whatever._

“You know how you always make fun of me for being reluctant to date or trust guys or open up to people? Well, he’s the reason why.”

“If he hurt you…” Darcy gave you a look.

“Oh, no, never,” you assured her, shaking your head. “He never physically hurt me, just emotionally. In fact, it wasn’t all one-sided. We just…we ended things badly. We both messed up.”

She listened quietly as you told your story for the first time.

It was so cliché; Bucky was your first love and your first real heartbreak, all within a matter of a few years.

You started seeing him when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. Around here, that wasn’t abnormal at all. In fact, it was much cooler to be dating an older guy, though that wasn’t what attracted you to him.

No, the first time you laid eyes on Bucky, he was pulling his long hair up in a bun and grinning at a couple of girls in the hallway. His blue-grey eyes sparkled, and his jawline had the lightest bit of stubble, and you knew right then you were a goner.

You didn’t think he would notice you, a lowly tenth-grader, but as you passed him that day, you somehow managed to catch his attention. His eyes locked on yours, and they stayed on you until you walked into your Home Ec classroom, not far from where he stood.

The whole period was a waste. You not only didn’t want to be there, but all you could do was think of him. What was his name? Was he single? Did he only stare at you because of something on your face?

Lucky for you, he was waiting for you outside the door when the bell rang, and he most definitely was interested.

The two of you started spending most of your time together, sometimes including each other’s friends, too. The one place Bucky never asked you to be is home with your father. After you’d told him your life story, he swore that he would protect you from your father, that you’d always have a safe place with him.

It seemed too good to be true at the time. No one falls in love that young. No one makes plans for the rest of their lives with someone at that age. It was practically unheard of in this generation, and all your friends told you so.

You didn’t listen. You never listened. 

When the time came for Bucky to graduate, you thought you were going to die, in that melodramatic teenager way. Everything was up in the air with him…would he stay? Would he head off to college, forcing you to have a long-distance relationship?

It was up to him, and you made that very clear. You told him you’d support his decision, that you didn’t want him to regret something or hold it against you.

In the end, Bucky decided he would stay and wait for you, something that still puzzled you to this day, mostly because of how everything ended.

Things got worse at home, with your father being mostly incapable of taking care of himself, and you began to spend more time with Bucky during the summer before your senior year. Eventually, Bucky got his own little one-bedroom apartment in town, and you started spending the night, too.

You lost your virginity to him on the fourth of July, after Steve’s birthday party. The night had been so amazing, filled with fun and excitement. Fireworks lit up the night sky, and somehow you and Bucky started your own little fireworks in the back of his truck.

After that night, your relationship got really intense. You grew even more attached to him, if that was even possible. 

Bucky began to worry more, and the added stress manifested itself in new ways.

He still didn’t want you going back to your house where your drunken father was. He also didn’t think it was good for you to be spending so much time with _him_ , either.

Instead, Bucky started taking on more hours at the garage his uncle owned, fixing cars at all hours of the night and making a crap ton of money doing so. He was saving up, he told you, so that the two of you could have a house someday.

Personally, you were more in love than ever your senior year. 

You didn’t notice anything bad happening, not even Bucky’s long hours away from you, because you were busy, too. Your rose-colored glasses were constantly on your face, blocking the truth from your eyes.

While everyone else was worried about homecoming and prom, you were more concerned about what you wanted to do with your life. 

You applied to local colleges and universities, hoping for a scholarship, but there weren’t many places nearby that had a lot to offer someone who was good with math and data. Nursing, agriculture, teaching…these were the sorts of majors that offered the big time scholarships.

After winter break, things began to get worse, as deadlines were looming and decisions needed to be made.

Bucky informed you he finally had enough for a downpayment on a house.

You mentioned that you wanted an education.

He reminded you he stayed behind for you, as if you could forget.

You told him you didn’t want to be unable to help support a household.

He said there was nothing like what you wanted here.

You argued that you could look into being a teacher.

The two of you reached an impasse, and decided to talk about it some more later.

Right up until May, you went through the motions of your relationship, ignoring all the what-ifs until you absolutely had to deal with them. It was just easier that way, or so you thought at the time. Between that, problems at home, and trying to pass your finals, you were _exhausted_. 

Still, you never expected what might have been obvious to anyone else. 

The night before your own graduation, you decided you were going to ask Bucky to move away with you. You’d ask him after the ceremony was over. What did you have to keep you here besides him, anyways?

If he was willing to spend the money he saved on a house in a different town, a different state even, the two of you could get away from all of this and make a new start together.

Even now you considered that night to be one of your favorite memories, though it was marred by what happened later on. Bucky made love to you, telling you all the ways he cherished you, and you slept in each other’s arms all night. He had breakfast waiting that morning, and gave you a kiss, saying he’d be there at your graduation that night.

When you crossed the stage in your cap and gown to receive your diploma, the first face you saw was Bucky’s as he sat in the front row and whistled. He was the only one there for you that night; your dad couldn’t be bothered to show. 

You gave your valedictorian speech, everyone threw their caps in the air, and just like that, high school was over.

Apparently, so was your relationship.

> _He came up to you, looking somber and holding a bouquet of flowers with a little note tucked inside._
> 
> _As soon as you saw him, you turned and threw your arms around his neck with a happy squeal. His arms tightened around you, and you felt his breath tickle your ear as he spoke._
> 
> _“Congratulations, graduate.”_
> 
> _You let go of him and accepted the flowers, leaning your head to smell one of the beautiful roses. You tucked the note in your pocket for later. “Thank you! I’m so glad it’s finally over.”_
> 
> _He was being uncharacteristically quiet. When your eyes met his again, you knew that he was going to say something you either were going to be thrilled with or didn’t want to hear. The look in his eyes…_
> 
> _“Bucky, what? Just say it.” Your grip tightened on the bouquet as you braced yourself._
> 
> _He put his hands in his pockets, but kept his eyes on you. “I bought the garage this morning.”_
> 
> _You frowned at him. “Your uncle’s garage? Why? I thought you were saving that money for our house?”_
> 
> _“It’s a good investment, since I don’t have a college education.”_
> 
> _“I don’t understand…I thought you wanted to live together? To start our lives together?”_
> 
> _Bucky nodded. “I do. We weren’t really moving on any decisions, so I made one.”_
> 
> _“Without me?” You were stunned. This was too big a decision to make on his own._
> 
> _“I thought you’d be happy, Doll. I finally got something solid for us?” His blue eyes were full of confusion._
> 
> _Was he really that dense?_
> 
> _“You made a decision for you, Bucky,” you replied, trying to keep it together. “I never said that’s what I wanted.”_
> 
> _“You never said much of anything, though. You went back and forth on everything. I thought maybe if you saw I had put in a real effort…” He shook his head. “Clearly you never wanted to be with a mechanic loser like me in the end. I’ll never be enough.”_
> 
> _“That’s not – don’t be ridiculous!” you exclaimed. Your hand holding the flowers dropped to your side. “I told you I would support your decision to stay another year, and I did. But for the last year, Bucky, all you’ve been talking about is buying a house! I thought you wanted one with me, I thought we would move away together!”_
> 
> _“It’s too late, Doll. I bought the garage,” he said, reaching for you and cringing when you pulled away. “I dumped all my savings into it. I know I won’t be able to sell it that fast now.”_
> 
> _“I can’t believe you did this,” you said softly, staring at him. “I was going to tell you tonight, that I wanted to move away with you. I can’t stay here. I have to get out of this town, Bucky, and away from my father. I can’t-“_
> 
> _When your voice caught, you let out a sob, covering your mouth with your free hand._
> 
> _This was really happening. All your plans, your hopes for the future, they were all pointless now.  
>  _
> 
> _Bucky cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. “I bought the garage, and I guess that means I’m staying here. I think…I think you should go live your life somewhere else, and get out of this shithole. You deserve better than this.”_
> 
> _His words felt like a knife cutting into your chest, leaving you straining for air. “It’s over?”_
> 
> _“It’s over,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m s-“_
> 
> _You shoved the flowers back against his chest, turned, and ran as fast as you could away from him._

You ran all the way to Brooklyn, to be exact.

“That _sonofabitch_ ,” Darcy snarled, glancing over her shoulder at Bucky. “I’ve had just enough margaritas to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t, Darce, please, it’s not worth it. We just…we screwed up, didn’t communicate. We had different plans.”

“He broke your heart! I think you deserve a better explanation than that!”

“Judging by the looks he’s giving me, I think I did a number on him, too. And he did write me a note that was in the flowers, but I never bothered to open it. I was too upset to look at it, so I shoved it in a box in my bedroom.”

“Ha! Well, we need to find that box when we go there tomorrow.”

You made a face. “That’s assuming that my father didn’t pawn my stuff for booze money and toss the rest in the trash.”

Bucky wasn’t playing pool anymore. He was back over at the bar, talking to a very tall, very familiar looking person who happened to be your only other friend in the world.

Steve Rogers was here.

It was like high school’s greatest hits; fate was throwing everything in your face at once.

The sight of Steve made your heart ache for simpler times, like when the three of you would sit in the back of Bucky’s pickup truck and listen to music, or go out to a movie.

He looked over just then, his blue eyes widening at the sight of you. Steve said something to Bucky, who nodded once and returned to his beer.

In no time at all, Steve was in front of you, scooping you out of your seat for the biggest bear hug anyone could ever want.

“It’s been a long time, stranger.”

You gripped him back just as tightly, burying your face in his shoulder. “I know.”

“Whoa, who the hell is this guy?”

Leave it to Darcy to break the mood. Steve let you go, and you pulled away to introduce your roommate.

“Steve, this is Darcy Lewis, she lives with me in Brooklyn. Darcy, this is Steve Rogers, and he is my only other friend on this planet.”

“Some friend,” he scoffed, smiling at you to let you know he was kidding. His eyes flitted to Darcy’s. “She hasn’t spoken to me in a long time.”

“With good reason,” you protested, nodding your head at the bar.

“Ah, yeah, well…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck for a second, then his eyes softened. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“Me too.”

“I wanted to text you, but I wasn’t sure if you were okay to talk about it. I guess that’s why you’re back?”

“Well it’s not to have beers at this place.”

“Hey, I happen to _own_ this place.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Steve. _You_ bought this place?”

“Uh huh. Old man Jet was gonna let some guy buy it and make it into a parking lot, but we had so many good times here…I just didn’t want the people still around here to be without someplace to hang out and make their own memories.”

You watched his face as he looked around the restaurant proudly, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. In all your efforts to forget this place, you’d forgotten that loads of good people loved it here. “It’s great, Stevie, really. I like the name, too.”

Steve grinned at you, then gestured to your table and all the food you’d had. “I’m a sucker for a beautiful woman giving me compliments. On the house, all of it!”

“In that case, I’m going to get another drink,” Darcy declared.

“Just make sure that’s all it is,” you called to her retreating form.

“She’s quite a woman,” Steve remarked, looking over his shoulder at Darcy. “I don’t know how you can handle someone like that. Makes me glad I married Peggy. Is everyone like that in New York?”

You were about to reply, but Bucky chose that exact moment to glance over at the two of you with a frown on his face.

Steve noticed too, turning back to you to try to change the subject. “I’m happy to see you, anyways, Y/N. I wish you would have called first, we could have planned something.”

“Thanks, Steve, but I really hadn’t intended on staying long enough to be noticed. It was supposed to be in and out, except for my meeting with Sam Wilson tomorrow. He’s handling the estate.” You paused, glancing back at Bucky. “Besides, it looks like there’s at least one person here not happy to see me.”

“It’s just unexpected after all this time, Y/N…”

“No, that’s not it. This town is too small for my visit to be unexpected. Everyone knows my father passed away. Everyone knows the funeral was today. No, Bucky, he- he wanted me to leave and never come back. He didn’t want me to be here anymore so he didn’t have to feel guilty about what happened.”

“Should he, though?” he raised an eyebrow at you. “He was trying to do what he thought would be good for you both.”

“Without _asking_ me first, Steve! You know what they say about good intentions.”

Steve sighed. “Look, you’re both my friends, I don’t want to get into this.”

“No, let’s discuss it, Steve, right here. What’s he been doing with his life?”

He cleared his throat. “He still runs that garage.”

You waited for more, a little surprised when he didn’t say anything else. “That’s it? No wife? No kids?”

“No. He has the garage and that’s been his focus for the last three years now.”

“That’s all?”

“Yep. He’s pretty well off, though, a self-made man. And honestly, Y/N, he’s probably just wondering why you bothered to come back for the funeral. He knew about you and your father, remember?”

Well _that_ didn’t make any sense at all.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t catch Darcy in time before she walked up to Bucky and opened her big fat mouth.

“Oh, damn,” you muttered, moving past Steve to try and reach your roommate before she did or said anything stupid.

“And who the hell are you?” Bucky was glaring, but his voice didn’t sound all that harsh.

“I’m Y/N’s best friend and I have a few questions for you. First of all, _how dare you_?” Darcy was right up in his face now.

You didn’t want to be this close to him, but something had to be done. “Darce, come on, it’s not worth it, we need to g-“

“ _No_ ,” she cried out, jabbing a finger into Bucky’s chest. “He’s got some ‘splainin’ to do, and not in a cute Lucy way.” She stared at him with wild eyes. “You _broke_ her. She doesn’t work right anymore!”

“Darcy, please!” You looked over your shoulder to see Steve coming to the rescue. “ _Stop_ …”

Steve moved to put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Darcy, I’ll get you another drink, made special just for you.” He mouthed the words ‘no alcohol’ to you as he led her away from Bucky. She was more than happy to go with your handsome blond friend, her protest against your ex-boyfriend all but forgotten.

Unfortunately, that left you standing in front of him, blinking with your mouth open, as awkward as could be.

His blue-grey eyes stared back at you, his expression unreadable for a brief moment before he looked away. Bucky reached into his wallet and threw down a couple of bills before standing. “I’m out of here.”

You were left feeling like that teenager who just graduated all over again.

 _It still hurt._ God, you didn’t realize how much you missed his stupid face until tonight.

He couldn’t even be _civil_ with you, that’s how much he didn’t want you in his life.

“No, you stay,” you told him, moving to block his exit as you tried to steady your breathing. “I’ll leave. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

It wasn’t fair and you knew it, but you weren’t feeling particularly rational tonight.

You turned on your heel, reaching for Darcy’s arm as you passed her and Steve. “Thank you for everything, Steve. I’ll text you sometime.”

Darcy didn’t even protest as you dragged her out of the restaurant and to your waiting rental car.

“Don’t trip,” you told her, holding the car door open as she hobbled inside.

“Why, cause it’s shlippy?” she slurred.

You chose to ignore that.

She didn’t speak again until you were both safely in your hotel room, where she wrapped her arms around you and apologized.

You barely slept that night.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, you left Darcy at the hotel to sleep off the previous night’s fun. There was no way she was going to be of any use to you today anyways, not with how much alcohol she had consumed.

This was something you felt you should do alone, at least this first visit.

The drive to your house was short and not-so-sweet. You gripped the steering wheel tightly in a vain attempt to calm down, silently willing yourself to get out of the car. From where you sat, you could see the end of the walk and the small (but somehow still wildly out of control) hedges that lined the yard.

Were you ready for this?

Did you even have a choice, really?

The inconvenient answer to both of those questions was _absolutely not_.

It wasn’t like you had anyone else to throw this task to. You didn’t have any siblings, and your extended family would never bother to help you. No, you were made to suffer through this one final thing, a nice little parting gift from a man who always did his best to make sure you were miserable.

Sam was already there, naturally. He was leaning up against his beautiful and impractical sports car parked in the driveway. There were sunglasses on his face even though the late spring sky was cloud-covered once again. His bomber jacket was the only thing that made sense on this chilly morning.

Your eyes slid to the clock on the dash. If you sat here any longer, Sam was going to charge you extra. You really liked him but you didn’t exactly want to finance his next summer vacation.

Reluctantly, you got out of the car, taking a few deep breaths as you shut the door.

“Well, well, well,” he said, straightening at the sight of you as you made your way up the crumbling walk. You saw a bottle of champagne in one hand and his briefcase in the other. “Look who finally decided to show. I was just about to round up your bill to another half hour.”

“Geez, Sam, it’s really good to see you, too,” you deadpanned, offering him a small smile. “How’s the missus? How’s Riley doing in school?”

“Charlie’s good, real good. She just finished up her residency at Children’s.”

“Leave it to you to find someone just as brainy and dedicated as you are.”

Sam chuckled. “Riley, well, he’s growing so fast, learning a lot…he’s more interested in sports, can you believe it?”

“Maybe you’ll raise a billionaire athlete?”

“Maybe. So anyway, are you ready for the good news or the bad news first?”

You smacked your forehead lightly. “Why is it that you can’t ever trust a lawyer?”

“Hilarious. You come up with that just now, or…?”

“Bad news first, please, I’m a realist.”

“Or a sadist.” Sam motioned for you to follow as he turned and walked closer to the house.

This moment was where someone with a normal reaction to their childhood home would have happily followed. Instead, you found your feet planted on that crumbling walk, your eyes shifting nervously to the house for the first time.

It was still as depressing as you remembered. The paint was all but peeled from the sides, and the roof over the back porch was caving in a little. Some shingles were missing in places on the roof, and a broken window had cardboard covering it.

Yeah, you definitely didn’t miss this place.

“Come on, Y/N, we have work to do,” Sam pressed.

You fumbled with the keys for a second (those damn shaking hands again), and when you finally got the door opened, you pushed your way inside. Everything was just as you’d left it the day you had to help grab some of your father’s things, after the seizures started.

That had truly been the day from hell.

It started off like any other lonely and miserable post-Bucky breakup day. It hadn’t even been a week after you graduated that you came home from the store to find your father on the floor having an seizing episode. EMTs stabilized him and took him via ambulance to the hospital, while you stayed back to grab some clothes and personal hygiene supplies.

The doctors told you his drinking was the problem, then they really laid it on you: he no longer had full brain functionality.

You had to put your dad in a personal care home at the expense of the state when he could no longer care for himself and needed frequent medical attention.

Since personal care homes were ridiculously expensive, and your father didn’t have a penny to his name, you signed forms stating that in the highly likely event that he passed away the estate would be sold off immediately. This was so the state could recoup some of its losses.

Not that you wanted to keep it. _No freaking way._

Sam set the champagne and his briefcase down on the kitchen table and opened it, pulling out a large stack of documents. “I took care of the sale for you. The contractors who bought it want to flip the house for resale, and I think they offered a fair price, for what it’s worth. Your realtor had a hard time finding someone to make an offer as-is.”

“Thank you,” you said, nodding as you shuffled through each page to find the little stickers so you could sign everything away. “That all sounds okay. So what’s the bad part?”

He handed you a pen and you signed while he kept talking.

“The bad part is they only agreed to the fair price if you got all this shit out of here by the end of the week.”

Your pen nearly scraped a hole in the paper as you glanced up at him in shock. “Are you kidding me? I’m not here that long, Sam, what am I gonna do?”

“I suggest you find a way to be here, Y/N. I can help arrange for the city mission folks to bring their van out. They can take a lot away for donations and you can claim it on your taxes.”

“Great,” you muttered, going back to signing your childhood home away. “What’s the good news, then?”

“I actually ended up giving the good news first.”

“ _Great_.”

It took a couple minutes, but once you’d signed everything, Sam shoved the documents back in his briefcase and gave you a small smile, pushing the bottle in your direction.

“This is for you. I know you don’t like to drink much, given the whole…anyway, Charlie wanted me to give it anyways. She said, ‘That girl deserves some expensive bubbly.’”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you imagined her bossing Sam around. “Tell her I said thank you.”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. It’s almost over.”

“I know. I’m just really tired, Sam. This is the end of a long and painful experience that’s lasted, ya know…my whole life.”

“You’re almost free.” Sam gave you a tight hug. “By the way, I heard your reappearance caused a scene at Steve’s place last night.” He pulled back to look at you while trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, I forgot to thank you for not telling me,” you retorted. “I love walking into the only restaurant worth anything in town to find my entire high school there.”

‘Why would I ever miss out on a chance like that? The mental image alone got me through all my meetings over your house!” He laughed, then turned to leave with his suitcase in hand. “Don’t be a stranger. Oh, and don’t forget to cut my check.”

“Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” With a final salute, Sam walked out of the house. 

You were left alone once again to clean up the mess your father made. With another big sigh, you stuck the champagne bottle in the fridge and got to work.

* * *

It took two hours of non-stop back-aching work, but the kitchen was finally sorted. Everything salvageable, including the appliances, would be going as donations. The remainder would be trashed.

Now you only had the rest of the house to clean. No big deal.

Your phone buzzed three times in your pocket, alerting you to incoming texts, all of which were from Darcy. She’d finally woken up about an hour ago, texting to ask where you were.

You explained your dilemma, and she quickly fixed all the travel and accommodation changes so that you could stick around and finish what you started with the house.

It didn’t surprise you that Darcy had agreed to the travel changes; this was like a safari to her, only instead of watching lions hunt in the grasslands, she was watching rednecks smash beer cans on their foreheads.

She would never have to know what it was like to live here.

Lucky her, though. She really was an amazing person, and you would have to pay her back somehow.

The living room was an even bigger mess. That room was where your dad spent most of his time either drunk or drunkenly passed out in front of the TV.

You moved around quickly, stopping only to move a picture of your parents on their wedding day out of the way. You’d be keeping that one, even if it hurt to see them like that, full of love and hope. It was the only picture your father ever kept around him, since hers was the only face he wanted to remember.

The hallways and the dining area were cleaned in no time, and since you were ahead of schedule, you decided to finally take a break. You wandered up the creaky staircase and down the hall until you reached your old room.

Okay, no lie, you were a little terrified to go in. You weren’t sure what you’d find. Would there be a giant spider? Maybe lots of small ones, or even a bat?

You braced yourself as you turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open, ducking back away from the door just in case anything flew out at you.

All seemed quiet, so you reached inside and flipped the light on, peering slowly around the door frame.

You were completely shocked at what you saw.

The last time you had been in here was the night after you moved your father into the home. You ransacked the place, trying to grab anything important as you packed a bag for New York City, fully intent on never returning. There had been clothes strewn everywhere, books on the floor…

Now the room was spotless. It looked like someone had come into the room and tidied up, putting everything back just how you had it before.

Your eyes filled with tears. There was only one person who would have done this, and it sure as hell wasn’t your father.

Bucky had come looking for you.

That was the only explanation. He had a spare key to the house, something you’d given him the minute things got serious just in case of emergencies. You never asked for it back because, well…you hadn’t seen him again after your breakup.

Even still, it had been ages since someone was in this room. You moved inside, letting your hand glide over the painted walls and dusty furniture. A box on the dresser caught your eye.

It was your own little version of the cliché memory boxes all the girls in your grade had made in high school to store mementos of their relationships. He must have discovered it weeks, maybe months after you left, and placed it there for safe keeping.

You knew it was ridiculous to be embarrassed about it now, but you felt your face grow hot at the thought of him seeing all these cheesy little mementos. You walked over to it, letting your eyes wander over some of the familiar items. There was the first CD mix he ever made you, and a couple of movie ticket stubs. One of the t-shirts you stole from him was tucked in a corner of the box.

Then there were the many, many photos.

You liked the convenience of taking pictures on your phone, but he always preferred to have hard copies made. There were stacks and stacks that you never had time to put into an album. You reached for one, gently blowing the dust off of it as you turned it over.

Your heart sank at the sight. It was a picture of you and Bucky, taken by Steve as the three of you sat on the front steps of the library. Bucky was sitting on the step above you, his arms wrapped around you as you leaned back into his chest. He was kissing your cheek while you grinned at the camera.

It was definitely one of your favorites. The two of you looked so incredibly happy.

If only you could warn the version of you in that picture about what was going to happen.

You carefully set the picture back on top of the stack, not yet ready to look through them. This box would be one you took back to Brooklyn with you, though, you were sure of that.

Just as you were about to turn away and get back to cleaning and sorting, your eyes landed on a small envelope that had been set out on the dresser next to the box.

You distinctly remember ripping it from your pocket and tossing it across the room the day you and Bucky broke up, though you were pretty sure you missed the garbage can.

He must have noticed that, too. You wondered if he got angry, knowing you never read it.

Should you even bother to read it now?

What good would it do?

In the end, you left it on the dresser. Tomorrow was another day.

* * *

Darcy started texting you again to grab some lunch, but you asked her to order room service this time around. If you stopped your progress now, you weren’t sure you’d meet that deadline the contractors had set.

Even with the extension, you still couldn’t really slow down. There was just so much to sort through, so many things your father never bothered to take care of. You didn’t even stop to eat, only pausing for water breaks.

Just like he promised, Sam got the city mission donation van to stop by and start taking the appliances. After a few more hours the lower level of the house was finally cleaned out.

The sun was starting to go down and you didn’t want to be there anymore, so you called it a night.You had accomplished a lot more than you expected, giving a nod of approval to the front door after locking it.

As you pulled the rental car from the curb, you saw the stupid check engine light come on.

“ _No_ ,” you pleaded with the car. “Please no.”

The only garage in town was Bucky’s, but you didn’t want to go there. You really, really didn’t want to go there.

The car began to sputter with each acceleration, and you knew you had to decide before you ended up stuck in this neighborhood waiting on Triple A for another two hours.

Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. Maybe you could get your car in and out without having to deal with the rental place in the morning.

You didn’t have time for all this car nonsense when there was the entire top floor of the house left to clean.

The garage was your only hope. You knew the way by heart. Bucky used to invite you over while he was on the clock, then ignore his work to make out with you instead. His uncle used to give him hell for it, but after Bucky told him about your dad, he didn’t mind your presence so much.

There were still employees working on cars even though it was late, so you figured it would be safe to at least pull into a spot and go inside to ask someone if they could have a look.

You were just a little more than nervous as you pushed the glass door open and went inside. A little chime sounded, and a short bald guy with glasses came walking out. His name tag read ‘Jasper.’

“Hi there, how can I help you?”

“Hello!” You turned and pointed at the little rental. “My rental car’s check engine light is on, and it’s hesitating a lot when I try to drive. I know basically nothing about cars, so I’m not sure if that’s really bad or not. Can someone here take a look at it for me?”

He made an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, we’re about to close, and the bays are filled. Can you bring it by tomorrow? We open at eight.”

“Can you _please_ at least tell me if a check engine light is safe to drive with?” you asked, trying to remain polite. You didn’t mean to be cranky, but you’d had a bad day, too. All he had to do was answer whether you were going to breakdown halfway to the hotel or not.

Jasper shook his head again. Before he could get his next sentence out, a figure came out from the back room.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky Barnes asked, glancing between you and his employee.

“I was just telling the customer that we’re about to close, and-“

“And you figured you’d turn her away just because you didn’t feel like dealing with it tonight, right?” Bucky stood a little taller, his expression serious. “What if her car stalled someplace in the middle of nowhere and she didn’t have cell phone service?”

“I- it’s our business hours, Mr. Barnes, I-” Jasper sputtered. Poor Jasper was glowering at you now, but there was no way he could have known your history with Bucky.

“Go home, then, Jasper, if you don’t feel like doing anymore work.” Bucky turned away from him and toward you. “Is the car acting funny?”

You nodded. “It’s hesitating…kind of sputtering when I press the gas pedal.”

Bucky nodded, wiping a hand down his face before holding his other hand out to you. “Keys?”

You were a little confused now, too. Didn’t he try to leave Steve’s restaurant at the sight of you yesterday? Why was he so willing to help you now?

“You don’t have to, Bucky, I can come back tomorrow.”

His blue eyes stared you down with determination, and he wiggled his fingers again, so you dropped the keys into his open palm. Bucky pushed past you to go get the car.

You shrugged at Jasper, who was now giving you a curious look, and turned to take a seat in the lobby.

After Jasper and the rest of his crew were long gone, Bucky came wandering back in from inspecting your car.

You sat up a little, unable to stop yourself from appreciating the fact that he’d ditched his business casual button down in favor of the white tank top beneath, now covered in sweat and grime. Bucky’s long hair was pulled back in a bun, leaving his muscular shoulders exposed. He’d obviously maintained some kind of workout regimen, because beefy arms like that didn’t happen overnight. He was still really, really hot.

Bucky’s entire body was a work of art.

Well, that was unfortunate.

Your eyes flickered up to his as you squirmed in your chair, and your face grew hot almost immediately. He definitely caught you checking him out just then.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Bucky had the audacity to look a little amused. “The gas cap wasn’t on tight enough. Whoever got the gas must have not only gotten the cheapest kind possible, because it was bad, but then they didn’t put the damn cap back on.”

You felt super idiotic now. “The rental car gave it to us like this. We- we didn’t have time to get gas yesterday.”

“It happens. Water or dirt can get into gas, and that messes with the engine. Anyway, I’m draining the tank now. Once I replace the gas it should work fine.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I just- you know I don’t know a thing about it. I worry.”

“I know,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting a little.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then you both spoke up at once.

“Let me buy you dinner, Buck, it’s the least I can do since you-“

“Anyways, I guess I should go back in, get this fixed up for you so you don’t have to wait-“

You both laughed uncomfortably.

“Sorry, you first.”

You cleared your throat. “I was just saying you should let me buy you dinner, Buck…for being so nice to me tonight.”

Bucky shook his head, wiping his palms on his jeans. “It’s no problem. I wouldn’t ever turn someone away like that idiot was about to.”

Ah, he would have done this for anyone. That made more sense. Plus, he couldn’t even find it in himself to accept free dinner from you.

You knew your disappointment was showing on your face, but you didn’t care. He was being unexpectedly kind, and you hated to not repay a favor. You also hated leaving here without accomplishing anything.

“Well, maybe we could order pizza or something,” he relented gruffly. “Nothing fancy. I can’t really run to a shower.”

Pizza? You could absolutely go for some pizza right now.

“Okay,” you agreed, trying to seem unaffected.

He gave you a single nod, then turned and shuffled back through the _Employees Only_ door to the rental car. 

You pulled your phone out to type a quick message to Darcy, canceling dinner plans, then pulled up google to try to figure out if the pizza place Bucky used to love was still in business.

As you typed, your hands were shaking a little. You knew you were anything but unaffected when it came to him.

If you were honest with yourself, you were glad to have the excuse to come here tonight. You felt bad for ditching Darcy again, but this was a one-time opportunity.

You were glad that crappy car was sputtering, because you wanted to hear Bucky’s side of the story. You wanted to be in the same room as him and not feel angry and hurt. You wanted another chance for him to turn those blue eyes in your direction without the same anger they held yesterday.

Steve had been right; you shouldn’t get the details from a third party, you had to go to the source.

Tonight you’d finally get the closure you’d been longing for since the night you and Bucky Barnes broke each other’s hearts.


	4. Chapter 4

If someone would have told you when you first got back to this town that you’d be sharing a pizza with your ex-boyfriend, you probably would have asked what kind of drugs they were on.

You stared from the doorway of his tiny office, the pizza box in your hands, while Bucky cleared off his desk.  He shifted some paperwork and motioned for you to set the food down.

“Come on in. I won’t bite.”

“You never know.” Your eyes widened as the comeback slipped from your mouth. “Sorry, that’s like my auto-response when someone says that to me. It’s…I’m-“

“Funny.”

Bucky opened the pizza box and you each grabbed a slice, chewing silently for at least half a minute. He must have been uncomfortable too, because he kept shifting in his office chair.

“Thanks, by the way. For the pizza.”

“Thanks for fixing the stupid rental car,” you told him. “How much do I owe you, by the way?”

“Don’t worry about it, Do-”

He almost used his pet name for you.

You pretended not to notice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeated softly.

Yeah, no way were you about to owe him anything. “I’m gonna leave money, so you might as well tell me how much.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. “I can see you’re still stubborn as ever.”

“And I can see you still have a hero complex,” you countered, tossing the pizza crust into the garbage bin near the door.

“Why can’t you just let me do this one thing for you?” He wiped a hand down his face, setting his half-eaten slice back in the box. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is, Bucky. It’s _always_ a big deal. It always seems that way, anyways.” You saw an opportunity and decided to take it. “Why did you get so mad yesterday?”

Bucky’s blue eyes met yours evenly, his expression blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on,” you exclaimed. “ _’I’m out of here_ ,’ that’s what you said right to my face. Why? Can’t stand the sight of me?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m simply asking. You’ve done a total one-eighty here.”

He leaned forward, now beginning to show a little of that anger again. “You know what it was? I can’t believe you came back, for _him_.”

“What does it matter to you why I’m here?”

“He made you miserable, Y/N! Why would you care to be so kind to him now? He’s gone and you should be thrilled.”

You recoiled at his statement. “He’s still my _father_ , Bucky, whether he was an asshole or not. Yeah, some people have it worse and they definitely have every right to take off and never come back, but…”

Should you tell him the truth? It’s not like you’d see him after this little stint in your hometown, anyway.

“But maybe he was right about me. Maybe-“

“He was _never_ right about you! Dammit, Y/N!” Bucky stood, slamming his hands on the desk in front of him and causing you to jump back a little. He turned around, running both hands over his hair in frustration.

The sight of his posture, the feel of his angry energy over your father - it took you back to the first day Bucky knew it was really bad at home.

> _“Come on,” Bucky whispered, giving you a sly grin as his hands moved further down your body. “Let’s just sneak up to your bedroom. He won’t even notice.”_
> 
> _“No,” you repeated for the third time. “Please, can’t we just go somewhere until he passes out?”_
> 
> _“Are you hiding our relationship?” His blue eyes clouded over at the thought. “I’m so beneath you that he wouldn’t even want to meet me?”_
> 
> _“It’s not that at all, I promise.” You reached for his face, cupping his cheeks gently, pleading with him to understand. “I don’t want to be there. He’s- Bucky, he’s so mean, you know? He’s a mean drunk. He spouts off all the reasons why I should never have been born…”_
> 
> _This time you saw a spark of anger in his beautiful eyes. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he looked away from you. “Does he hurt you?”_
> 
> _“No, it’s not like that, I just…” You sighed. “Please, don’t make me go home yet.”_
> 
> _He looked back to you with a nod. “I won’t. We’ll find someplace to go tonight and…I promise, Y/N, someday…”_

“It’s over, anyways,” you added quietly, eyes dropping to the floor. “He’s gone, for good now. I’ve sold the house. I won’t have to be back here anymore.”

Bucky turned back around then, and you lifted your gaze to meet his. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a beat, but his eyes were so stormy you could tell he was warring with himself on what to say next.

In the end, he just sat back down and picked his pizza back up to continue eating.

You weren’t sure what to say now. Awkward conversation wasn’t exactly your strong point. “So, um…how have you been? This place looks amazing.”

He gave you a look. “An auto shop looks amazing to you? Since when?”

“Since now,” you informed him. “God, take a compliment, Bucky.”

“Stop the small talk then, Y/N.”

“All right,” you said, standing up and brushing your hands off before reaching for your bag. You dug inside and pulled out forty bucks, leaving it on his desk. “Thanks again. See you.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You stopped in the doorway of his office, shifting your bag on your shoulder uncomfortably. Why did you bother to ask him to spend time with you? What were you _thinking?_ Reluctantly, you turned back around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky moved to stand in front of you, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I never expected to see you back here.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’re not, I- can we _not_ for a minute?” Bucky’s eyes softened.

Guilt washed over you. “You’re right. I’m sorry, too.”

He gave you another nod, but didn’t say anything else.

And of course you had to open your mouth again. “I’m glad this place is doing so well, since you chose it over me.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open.

“I know it wasn’t like that,” you continued. “I know it. But that’s how it felt at the time, and that’s how it still sort of feels, as irrational as that is. I know it’s not fair to you, I’m just…I’m throwing it out there.”

“All right,” he nodded. “Well your need to spend my whole life savings on a tiny apartment in New York wasn’t exactly feasible, Y/N, was it? You knew that I meant a real house, one we could settle down in.”

“And _you_ knew I had to get away from my father, Bucky! You even said it not five minutes ago!”

“We didn’t have to live in this town,” he reasoned, his tone growing louder. “I would have moved away with you, Y/N, if you would have given me the chance!”

“Would it have been enough?” You shook your head sadly. “You would have moved to the next town over, Buck, but not far enough.”

The two of you contemplated that for a moment, looking anywhere but each other.

“I never expected us to end up like this,” he said finally, staring at the door frame beside your head. “I thought we’d be married by now, maybe planning vacations or trying for a kid.”

You let out a chuckle, blinking fast. “It sounds nice in theory, doesn’t it?”

“I heard you finished your degree early.”

“Summer classes,” you supplied meekly. “There was a, uh, company in New York that wanted me to start working for them, so they paid for some of my tuition.”

Bucky nodded, glancing back at you. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you, too. You’re doing really well for yourself.”

“Dammit,” he groaned. “Let’s say anything but polite small talk.”

You racked your brain for a second. “Thanks for cleaning my room. I might need that key back, though, since the house has been sold.”

He looked startled. “Your room? You mean back at the house?”

“Yeah, Bucky, I know it was you.”

“I don’t have the key anymore.”

At least he didn’t bother denying it.

“Where is it?”

“I threw it in the lake beside the school,” he said, chuckling. “Didn’t need it anymore, right?”

“Nice.” You leaned against the frame, shifting your weight to your other foot. “And my room?”

“It was messy. I was trying to find you that day I heard about your dad, but…”

But you had been long gone probably, by the time the news would have reached his ears. You merely nodded in understanding. After all, why would you have told him?

“Thanks for not reading my letter, by the way,” he added.

“I was an angry teenager, what did you expect?”

That made his mouth lift a little.

Your phone rang out from inside your bag, and you gave Bucky an apologetic look before reaching for it. “It’s my friend Darcy, I’m sorry.”

“No problem. I don’t want to be on her bad side again.”

You laughed, then hit answer. “Yes, Darcy?”

_“Where the hell are you right now?”_

“I had some car trouble. The check engine light was on and-“

_“Are you with Bucky right now?”_

“I can hear her, that’s how loud she is,” Bucky mentioned, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked amused.

Those damn giant muscles of his distracted you from answering her for a second. “Yes, Darcy. Bucky owns a garage, remember? And no, there aren’t any others nearby. This town is lucky to have even one.”

_“Are you about done then? You ditched me all day. We should go back to Steve’s!”_

“That’s a great idea,” Bucky agreed, turning to grab his jacket. “Let’s do that.”

* * *

“I hate you,” you hissed to Darcy. “Why did you suggest this?”

“Because it was super fun, and there’s nowhere else to go, and you need to relax, peaches.”  She wiggled her eyebrows at you. “And I wanted to remind you that we’re leaving soon. I don’t think that it’s a wise idea to…. _you know_.”

“No!” You made a face at her. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do!” Darcy nudged your arm then lifted her chin slightly in Bucky’s direction. “Don’t do _that_.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” you muttered, taking a sip from your drink. “Or _anyone_.”

“Okay.” Her tone was sarcastic. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Okay, well, Steve’s married, so don’t even with _him_!”

She turned to you, looking offended. “I have not even remotely talked to him yet tonight, thank you very much!” Her eyes flitted to a different guy sitting about three tables over. “That’s the guy I want!”

You squinted, hoping that your eyes were seeing things because of the few drops of alcohol in your system. “You want Ian? Ian Boothby?”

“What’s wrong? He’s cute! And he has an _accent_!”

“He’s the exchange student from my class, the mean kids called him Toothy Boothby!”

“Whatever, he’s cute, and he has an accent,” she reiterated.

“He never went home? That’s really weird,” you mused, looking up as Steve came back to the table with a beer in his hand. “Steve, why is Ian still here?”

“He got an internship with Sam,” he replied, shrugging one shoulder. “It progressed into a paralegal job. The kid wants to go to law school.”

“And he decided to stay _here_?”

“Not everyone wants to run for the hills, Y/N.” Steve gave you a knowing look. “Speaking of that, weren’t you leaving today?”

“Slight change of plans,” Darcy answered for you, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh god, she’s gonna try to hook up with him,” you groaned, smacking your forehead. “I guess I should get comfortable, she won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Knowing Ian, she’ll be back in three minutes or less,” Steve quipped, taking a sip of his beer.

You laughed, right up until Bucky walked over to the table, looking like he was up to no good.

Steve took one look at his friend, then made an excuse to beeline for the bar with a wink in your direction.

“Chasing everyone away again, Y/N?” Bucky asked, his eyes twinkling. He clearly knocked a couple back tonight.

“I think that last one was your fault, Barnes.”

“Maybe. I guess I’ve got the experience.” He looked down at the table.

_Shit_.

Why couldn’t you just enjoy this time before you went home? You weren’t coming back here, ever. You needed the closure…it was _so close_ you could feel it.

“We both know you didn’t chase me away, Bucky.”

“Didn’t I?” He looked back up at you, the twinkle in his eyes all but gone. “I bought the garage, I- I didn’t include you in anything. I just assumed…”

“And I panicked,” you countered. “I didn’t think about how expensive it could be to get a place in New York for the both of us. I instantly thought of the garage as a chain holding me here.”

These new revelations, ones neither of you had confessed to each other before, were causing the tension from earlier to return.

“We just need to forgive each other,” you told him, setting your drink down. “We need to let go of the hurt.”

“I know.” Bucky sighed, then looked over his shoulder. “Hang on a second. I have an idea.”

“What?” You looked at him in confusion as he got up from the table. “Where are you going?”

“Hang on!”

Bucky weaved his way around the tables over to the jukebox on the side of the wall. You watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, then tapped the screen until he found what he was looking for.

The first notes of the song he used to play for you at the garage rang out over the speakers.

You suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

Bucky was back in front of you, holding a hand out to you. “May I have this dance?”

“Bucky, _no one’s dancing_!”

He reached for your hand anyway, pulling you up out of your seat to the corner by the music. Your face was heating up; how goddamn embarrassing was this trip for you so far, really?

And what a difference one night made with your ex-boyfriend. He went from raging and ready-to-bolt, to wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close.

“Darcy’s dancing,” Bucky laughed, nodding at your best friend.  He spun you around so you could see her forcing Ian to hold her just as close.

More couples joined in, and suddenly you didn’t feel so stupid. You turned back to Bucky in amazement.

The sparkle was back in his blue eyes.

“I’ve got so much honey the bees envy me,” Bucky murmured to you, holding your hand tightly in his as he swayed with you. “I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular Sinatra,” you told him, grinning to try to hide your rising anxiety. “Exactly how many beers did you have? You know that evoking memories isn’t the best way for us to move on, right?”

This song, it was _special_ , he shouldn’t be playing it now.

He shouldn’t be bringing something like this up on a day like today, after you both argued earlier.

He shouldn’t be singing to you and holding you this close after years apart, years of not speaking to each other.

_He shouldn’t-_

Bucky ignored you and continued to sing softly, clearly not sensing your distress. “Well, I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way?”

“I have to go,” you announced, pulling away from him before he could protest. “Thank you for the dance, and for saving me and my car earlier. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

It was just too much, too soon. You weren’t in high school anymore. So much time had passed, so many things had happened to change you both. You weren’t even sure you knew him that well anymore.

_You had to let go._

As you hurried over to the table to grab your bag, you left Darcy to hitch a ride back with Ian. She’d forgive you tomorrow.  Steve, too. Maybe Bucky would too, someday.

You bolted out the front door and to the rental car, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone else.

* * *

So you ended up back at the house. _Of course_ you did.

It was time to read that _goddamn_ _letter_.

Maybe then you’d have a little more ammunition for your _‘leave this town and never come back_ ’ campaign.

It was eerie to be back there at night, with everything silent except empty rooms echoing your footsteps. You used your phone to light the way up the stairs and into your bedroom, where you still had a lot of work to do. With the flip of a switch, your room was illuminated, and your eyes did another quick once-over.

Your old bed, for one, would need to be donated. The mattress was probably headed for the dumpster, just because it was old, but the frame was still good. All your furniture was going to be donated, too. It was mismatched, but you were sure it would be of use to someone eventually.

The box of mementos was still sitting where you left it, as was the letter.

You reached for both, setting the box next to you as you sat cross-legged on the bed.

The pictures could wait for now. You wanted to see what he had to say the day of your graduation…the day everything changed for both of you.

You tore open the envelope as carefully as possible, finding a store-bought card tucked inside. The front cover was a graduation cap with the word ‘ _Congratulations_!’ over it. On the inside, there was a neatly folded piece of paper. The card itself just had a generic greeting with Bucky’s named scribbled at the bottom.

The _letter_ , though…

Your hands were trembling slightly as you unfolded it bit by bit. It was an entire page of his sloppy handwriting, signed once again by his name with a smiley face next to it.

> _Y/N,_
> 
> _I’m sure by now you’ve heard it a hundred times, but congratulations on graduating! I’m so damn proud of you. I always knew you were the best and brightest in this whole town._
> 
> _I know things have been weird lately, but that’s because I’ve been planning to make a future for us. I hope you don’t mind, I wanted it to be a surprise, and I figured any plan was better than no plan._
> 
> _My uncle wants to retire and sell his garage. He asked me if I wanted it, and after a long time thinking about it, thinking about us, I said that I did. I’ve saved up enough money to put a down payment on it. The rest I’ve worked out in a loan, which has such a low finance rate I’ll pay it off in a year, or maybe less if I work really hard._
> 
> _We can use the money I make from this to have a good life. Maybe if it does well, I can sell it for profit, and we can take off for good. It’s what I stuck around for, right?_
> 
> _I know it’s a lot to ask of you to stick around a while longer, but if you’re willing, I’ll give you the whole world.  I love you so much, and I can’t wait to start our lives together._
> 
> _What do you say, Doll?_
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Bucky_

You could hardly fight the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He had wanted you. He wanted a future with you.

But he _never asked you_.

_You_ never told him your vision of the future, either.

This is why teenagers shouldn’t be allowed to make these kinds of decisions on an emotional whim.

You were hurt, humiliated, and so, _so_ _exhausted._ You fell asleep there, alone in your old room surrounded by all the things you tried to forget, clutching Bucky’s letter to your chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is “My Girl” by the Temptations. I hc that Bucky’s uncle used to listen to oldies in the garage.


	5. Chapter 5

For the first time ever, even after all those years of wanting cable TV or your own phone or anything your friends had, you were glad that your father didn’t own much.

The biggest and most important things were already gone, like the appliances, electronics, and a bulk of the furniture. He had gotten rid of the bed he’d shared with your mother ages ago, choosing instead to sleep on the couch for easier access after he stumbled back from the bar.

All that really remained upstairs was the furniture in your bedroom and some end tables here and there.

You never meant to spend the night there; it was a completely unsettling experience. When you woke up, you became immediately confused. Then you remembered: your father was dead. You’d fallen asleep reading Bucky’s letter. That’s the only reason why you’d gone back there last night.

Poor Darcy was probably in a panic, since your phone battery had died during the night and you never really bothered to tell her where you were.

Between the letter and the events of yesterday, you kind of just cried yourself to sleep, waking up with puffy eyes and a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. To distract yourself, you immediately stripped the covers off your old bed, throwing the mattress against the side wall so that you could take the frame apart.

You were so into cleaning up the top floor of the house that you didn’t hear someone pounding on the door.  You didn’t hear that same someone enter the house (which you stupidly left unlocked), and you definitely didn’t hear them come up the stairs.

“ _Y/N_!”

Bucky’s voice startled your otherwise peaceful progress. You shot backwards, falling onto your backside on the floor. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” he said, trying to bite back his laughter, appearing in the doorway. He walked over to you and held out a hand, which you accepted after a slight hesitation.

Once you were hauled back on your feet, you glared at him. “Why did you feel the need to sneak up on me?”

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t answer your door,” he retorted, finally stopping to look around him. Bucky’s eyes softened almost immediately at the sight of your room being cleaned out. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

You knew he meant the house sale, but you couldn’t help but think back to his letter.

“Yep.” Your eyes flickered back to the box that was now on the floor near the window. The box, and the photo of your parents, were the only two things you were taking back to Brooklyn. “I’m almost done.”

“I figured.”

You watched awkwardly as Bucky went over to the box, plucking out the stack of photos. Should you tell him you finally read it?

Did it matter at this point?

You did a quick analysis in your head, something you were awfully good at. What was the likelihood of regret if you didn’t bring it up now? The probability was colossal.

“Hey, Buck?”

“Hmm?” Bucky didn’t even look up at you as he shuffled through the stack of photos, stopping every so often to smile or study a picture more closely.

“Did you mean what you said? In your letter?”

That got his attention. His blue eyes snapped up to look at you, his smile fading. “Of course I did.”

Instead of replying, you nodded your head.

“So you read it?”

You nodded again.

Bucky set the photos back in the box, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up and moved closer. He waited for you to find your voice again.

“I was dumb,” you admitted, shrugging a little. “And even now, I’m being dumb. It feels like forever ago, Bucky, until we’re together in the same room. Then it feels like no time has passed at all.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean? It feels like you’re a totally different person to me.”

“I’m just older. I’d love to say I’m wiser, but that isn’t the case.”

“No, you’re _different_.”

“I’m the same person, I promise.”

“ _No_ ,” he insisted, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “You’re braver. You don’t…you don’t _need_ anybody anymore.”

Your body tensed up, and you knew you had to be frowning at him. Why was this starting to feel like a proper breakup, the one you should have had with him years ago?

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat.  “The reason I stopped by is because Darcy apparently cannot get a hold of you and she has no clue where the house is. She asked me to, and I’m quoting her on this, ‘make sure Y/N isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.’”

You laughed, picturing Darcy panicking. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have left her alone last night.”

“Not alone. She left with Ian, if it makes you feel any better.”

“It kind of does. She gets bored.”

“Why _did_ you leave?” Bucky’s eyes searched yours. “I thought we were having a nice time, being civil unlike most exes?”

“I was having a nice time,” you agreed. “But then you had to go and start singing our song, and- and holding me like _that_ , and-“

“Whoa,” he laughed, holding his palms up. “I was just dancing for old times’ sake. I wasn’t trying provoke any feelings. I definitely wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. You just…you ran again.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, his explanation hurt your feelings. “I know…like I said, I panicked. I wasn’t trying to suggest you would. I- I wasn’t trying to say you’d ever want me or anything.”

His arms fell to his sides. “What?”

“ _Nothing_.” You shook your head, gesturing for him to follow you as you walked out of the room. “The big fridge was taken for donation already, but I found a mini-fridge in the garage, so I stored the champagne Sam gave me there. Let’s go toast to the end of this shitty era.”

Without waiting for him to reply, you took off down the stairs and through the side door, grabbing the bottle. It was still nice and cold, so you popped the cork and moved the bottle away from your body so you didn’t get any champagne on you as it spilled over.

There was a slight problem – there were no more glasses in the house. You’d donated them all to the local city mission.

You shrugged to yourself, taking a swig from the bottle before holding it out to Bucky expectantly.

He just sort of standing there, staring at you as if you’d grown two heads. “What the hell is this, Y/N?”

“What is _what_?” If he wasn’t gonna have any, you would just take another sip. “It’s champagne.”

“You’re here facing all this shit with your father head-on like it’s nothing, but then when it comes to me you run _every time_.”

“What do you want me to do, Buck?” You held out the bottle again. “Swoon?”

Bucky’s eyes grew stormy and he grabbed the champagne from your hands, taking a generous swig. “No, I’d like to know what’s going on in that head of yours, though.”

What _was_ going on?

“You shouldn’t have danced with me, Bucky,” you muttered, reaching for the champagne bottle. “You took it too far for someone who’s hell-bent on letting go.”

He pulled it out of your reach, drinking some more. “Why was it too far? D’you have somebody in New York?”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters! Who would let their significant other come to their father’s funeral alone?” He finally relented, offering you the bottle again. “That’s shitty.”

“I’m single, thank you very much. I’ve been _very_ focused on school and then work.”

When Bucky didn’t say anything, you took that as a sign to continue.

“What, no snappy comeback? No, ‘ _I figured you were alone because you brought your roommate?’_ You’re losing your touch, Bucky. I figured that you’d at least bring up the fact that I probably can’t find someone because I’m so hard to love.” Your voice caught on the last word and you turned from him, covering your mouth with your free hand.

“Y/N, come on,” Bucky said softly. You heard his boots shuffle closer to you, but you needed a minute. “Don’t be like this, not now.”

You stared out the dirty garage window, at the murky sunlight crawling across the floor, at _anything_ that would help take your mind off how you were feeling.

Suddenly he was right beside you, taking the bottle from your hands and setting it down on the garage floor.

You didn’t hesitate this time as you turned and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder as you finally let yourself cry over this whole shitty situation.

“ _Shhh_ ,” he murmured, stroking your hair gently. “You’re not unlovable, trust me. That asshole father of yours hadn’t been of sound mind since your mom died, Doll. He wasn’t sober enough to be. You can’t let him dictate how you feel about yourself.”

Honestly, it felt so damn good to be wrapped up in someone’s arms, to be held by someone who used to genuinely love you, even if he didn’t anymore. You hated to move and lose the warmth and comfort, but you did so anyway, letting go of him and taking a step back as you swiped at your eyes.

“I’m sorry for losing it,” you told him, trying to brush it off. “Clearly I should look into therapy.”

His gaze was even. “You can lose it whenever you want to. I’m here.”

“But you aren’t here _with me_ , Bucky. You aren’t around, but he’s always there in my head. That’s why I can’t be in this town.”

For the first time _ever_ , he seemed to get it, nodding thoughtfully as his blue eyes stared at yours.

The damage a parent like that can do to you, well, there’s not really much recourse besides living with it, is there?

“Your letter was beautiful.” You figured there was no time like right this second to bring it up again. After all, one more sleep and you’d be back in Brooklyn…one more night of heart-wrenching torture to go. “I never knew how much you cared, to be honest. I guess…I couldn’t see past my own problems.”

Bucky gave you a sheepish smile. “I was pretty good with words for a guy with no college education.”

“See, don’t do _that_ then. Don’t put yourself down like you’re not good enough for anyone just because you didn’t go to college. You have a successful business, Bucky, you’re doing so well for yourself. How many people with degrees can say the same these days?”

“We both have some issues that still haunt us I guess.” He let out a hollow laugh, his smile falling from his mouth as he looked down at the cement floor.

“I didn’t go to Brooklyn to get away from you. I didn’t run, I…I’m not running.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t buy the garage to chain you here.”

“Do you think maybe if we were in the same place…?”

You couldn’t help the hopeful look you knew you were giving him right then as your voice trailed off. You wanted to know. This question had been burning a hole inside your heart for the last three years. It was time for him to either extinguish it for good or burn with you.

“Seems unlikely though, doesn’t it?”

“It’s just a hypothetical.”

Bucky held your gaze for a beat, then shook his head. “I think…hypothetical scenarios are best left to the imagination.”

Ah, _there_ it was.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting; three years might have well been an entire lifetime. He was a changed man, a responsible adult. He had better things to do than worry about losing his heart to someone like you again.

You could practically feel your own heart growing colder at his words.

Instead of crying, instead of throwing the champagne bottle against the wall to watch the glass shatter into a thousand pieces like your sanity, you forced a smile to your face. “You’re probably right. I have to get back to work, but it was good seeing you again. If you could let Darcy know I’m almost finished here?”

He looked almost surprised at your reaction. “Sure. Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“You too.”

Bucky reached up and cupped your cheek gently, his thumb running across your skin once, before he let go of you. His eyes roamed your face for a second, then the garage, before he turned and walked out the door, hands in his pockets, as if it was the most casual thing ever to break your heart all over again.

* * *

“That’s it?” Darcy eyed you carefully as you pushed your way into the hotel room, the Bucky box tucked under your arm. “That’s all you’re taking back with you?”

“Everything else is set for donation,” you confirmed, setting the box down on the armchair in the corner. “Sam has the keys, and I left instructions with him for tomorrow. He promised to have what little is left picked up for me so I could leave.”

“Sam is a cool dude, but Y/N, what about everything else?”

You whirled around. “What else is there? The funeral’s over, I took care of the legal crap, the house is as good as gone from my life forever…I can go back to Brooklyn without anything trying to hold me back in this hellhole.”

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m going to shower and go to sleep. That way, tomorrow will get here quicker, and we can-“

“What about Bucky?” she interrupted, putting her hands on her hips. “What about the unfinished business between you two?”

“That’s just it, Darce. It _is_ finished. He came over to the house because you called the garage – thanks for that by the way, we’re really going to have to invest in car chargers so that if my phone dies again I won’t be radio silent. Anyways, he came over and we talked, and I brought up the letter. I asked him if there was ever a chance for us and he basically shot me down.”

“Whoa, slow down champ.” Darcy pulled you to sit on the edge of the bed, turning toward you. “You can’t just do a tweet’s worth of a summary, I need more explanation than that!”

“He basically said even if we were in the same place we wouldn’t be together.”

“What do you mean by ‘basically,’ Y/N?”

“He put an end to any hope I had.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, no, but…”

“So was it more of a ‘we weren’t meant to be last time, but we can still totally bang on the kitchen floor one last time?”

You made a face at her. “ _No_!”

“All right, I was just checking, geez.” Darcy tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. She seemed to be mulling it over. “Maybe you misinterpreted. That doesn’t seem right to me.”

“Really? My life doesn’t seem right to you? What was your first clue?” You let out a sharp laugh. “My alcoholic father? My failed relationship? Was it me agreeing to be the roommate of someone with an ad like yours?”

“You know what I mean, smartass! This doesn’t feel like this is the end.”

“I don’t know what kind of definition you had in your head for the word ‘end,’ but that’s exactly what this is. Over, finished, complete, dunzo. In other words, _the end_.”

Darcy shook her head. “Something doesn’t feel right about it. It’s not the closure you needed.”

“Closure?”

“Yeah, like…you got the closure with your dad and the house, as best you could since he couldn’t physically apologize to you for being such a piece of shit. But this other thing…”

“I did okay without Bucky, didn’t I? We talked, we reminisced, and we parted ways again. I’ll be okay.”

“You still love him, Y/N. Anyone that was in the room with the two of you could see it plain as day on your face. And Bucky looked the same way, which is why I don’t get his response to you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s probably just nostalgia at this point.”

“Nostalgia wouldn’t leave my best friend feeling like this.”

You sighed, standing up again to go toward your suitcase and grab some pajamas for after your shower. “That’s the funny thing about endings, Darce. You don’t always get the one you want.”

* * *

After a restless night’s sleep, you were up bright and early to pack and head back to the airport.  You had to reassure Darcy that you were doing just fine at least seven times already, but she still didn’t look convinced.

Either way, you were well on your way home.

 _Home_ …what a funny word that was.

Home used to mean that town, in that house with your father. Then it shifted through your high school years to mean anywhere Bucky was.

Now, it was your cramped apartment in Brooklyn that you shared with Darcy. Who knows where home would be in the coming years, but at least you were sure that wherever it was, you’d do your best to make yourself happy.

Everything you’d brought with you from your trip was tucked in a new box in the back of your closet, though you couldn’t seem to find the picture of you and Bucky on the library stairs. Your heart sank the moment you realized it was missing. You must have thrown it away in your hurry to clean out your room.

It was probably for the best.

Life slowly went back to normal. Work was the same, and your apartment was the same, and your nights alone while Darcy was traveling for her photography were the same, too. Netflix and _sit alone and wait to die_ was more like it.

And what was closure, anyway? What kind of shitty word meant both the act of and sense of a conclusion? Closure was a total illusion like time and control. It’s a concept that’s beyond you, and you’re just kidding yourself if you think you’ve found the answers.

No, you had to put a smile on your face and move on with your life one day at a time.

That was the _true_ meaning of closure.


	6. Chapter 6

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

You looked up from your laptop, blinking innocently at your roommate. “I’m not doing anything, Darce.”

Darcy marched over to you. “What are you working on? It’s Saturday!?”

Before she could grab at the laptop, you pulled out the power cord, watching with a sick satisfaction as the screen turned black.

It was no one else’s business, not in this early stage anyways.

“What are you hiding?” She let out a frustrated groan. “Please don’t tell me you took Jane’s suggestion about online dating seriously?”

Jane Foster was her current employer, and she hired Darcy a few weeks ago to sort of follow her on her scientific expeditions (which were really just excuses to be gorgeous in nature) and create a photo journal about them. Darcy still did freelance work, but she found that shooting subjects in nature _‘soothed her soul’_ or some such thing, and you encouraged her to take the stable work.

You tagged along on one of their particularly hilarious photo sessions in Central Park, where Jane went through the botanical gardens and Darcy compared everything to life and death. Jane asked the inevitable question: _how did you end up in New York?_

Your answer had perturbed her, so she told you online dating was the only way to go, spending at least a half hour talking about the logical benefits of choosing a ‘mate’ with algorithms and _then_ attraction.

“Why do you care, Darcy?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Don’t you have some urban jungle to traipse through today? I saw your calendar on the fridge.”

Darcy leaned over the desk, her face a mask of utter seriousness. “Do _not_ online date, Y/N.”

“I have to move on eventually,” you countered, plugging the laptop back in. “I can’t live here with you forever. I’m sure you want a life of your own, too.”

“Yeah, but not with creeper number seventy-five, whose picture is in front of a car that’s obviously not his.”

“ _Go away_.”

“Fine, but make sure you have your phone on, so when you’re kidnapped the police can find you.” Darcy tossed her hair over her shoulder and flounced out of the room.

“Whatever.” You logged back in, and luckily the browser reopened to the last page you’d been looking at.

No, you weren’t signing up for online freakin’ dating.

The truth was much worse. It was sad, it was _pathetic_ , even.

You didn’t want Darcy to know that you’d been looking for jobs closer to Bucky.

Brooklyn was amazing…it was everything you had hoped for, it offered everything someone would ever need to be happy…

The trouble was, ever since you arrived back home in Brooklyn, you couldn’t stop thinking about _him._ Four weeks now, an entire _month_ had already gone by, and you knew you should move on. You knew that it wasn’t healthy, that the nostalgia must have really taken you in a strangle-hold this time.

The thought of living the rest of your life without Bucky made you want to curl up in a ball and disappear forever.

So, yeah, you were looking for jobs closer to him, on the off-chance that you’d actually find something and he’d change his mind about your love and want you back, too.

_Pathetic._

Just like you assumed, there was nothing near your hometown. There was nothing in the nearby locations, either. But near the end of the list of your search results there was an opening for an analyst at a telecommunications firm located about halfway between Bucky and Brooklyn.

Would he be willing to meet you halfway on this? You googled the town, and it was really beautiful. There were parks and a big library, and lots of cute little townhouses. You wouldn’t mind starting over in a place like that; it was smaller than a city but big enough to feel modern and alive.

There was just one problem.

You sat back in your seat, feeling completely deflated again. It’s not like he gave you any hope when you parted. It’s not like he said ‘ _hell yeah there’s a chance for us!_ ’

This was just absurd.

Maybe you’d go there by yourself and live. Maybe you could get away from Brooklyn, the city that always reminded you of the hometown you left behind simply because it was the first place you’d gone.

Maybe you didn’t need anyone to start a new life. Maybe you’d meet someone else there, someone happy to have you, someone to cherish you always, someone you wouldn’t have such a hard time communicating with.

You settled on bookmarking the job for now, to be revisited after lunch.

Amidst all your _maybes_ and your _somedays_ , you decided you were a little hungry, and it was never a good idea to change your entire life on an empty stomach. That probably wasn’t the saying, but you didn’t care and neither did your rumbling stomach.

There was a little café down the street that you loved, where they knew you and your favorite order. Comfort food and friendly faces were exactly what you needed.

These final few weeks in Brooklyn were going to be well-spent, until you finalized your plans to leave this great city and could gently break the news to Darcy.

You started looking at everything with a new perspective. The cramped but cozy apartment…the stairwell that echoed with laughter every time you and Darcy trudged up the steps together…the front security door that the landlord had decorated himself with beautiful New York landmarks…

As you pushed open the front door to go outside, you ran right into the broad chest of someone hovering just outside the door.

“ _Oof_!”

“I’m sorry, sorry! I was in the way, it’s my f-“

You looked up when you recognized the voice.

Bucky Barnes was here in Brooklyn, standing at the door of your apartment.

“Bucky?” To say you were confused would be the greatest understatement of the century. “What are you- _how did you_ -?”

He looked like a pragmatist caught in the middle of one of Darcy’s experimental art shows. His blue-grey eyes were wide, and he was wringing his hands together.

“I can’t believe I actually found this place,” he chuckled nervously. “Hell, I can’t believe _you_ can actually find this place! How do you _live_ here?”

Yeah, you kind of figured that Bucky would have been unhappy moving to Brooklyn with you. “I love it here,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

“I know.” Bucky’s eyes dimmed a little. “So I didn’t just come all this way to say hi, I guess you must realize that by the way. Ugh, I’m stammering and- shit, I’m messing this up _already_. Can we just go get coffee or something?”

“I was just on my way.” You nodded your head in the direction of the café. “Let’s go get a table and talk.”

* * *

“This is actually pretty good.”

Bucky had insisted on trying a veggie burger in some misguided attempt to try to accept your little hipster neighborhood, and he only cringed once right when it was placed in front of him. After that, he really tore into it.

“It’s not my favorite, but they are healthy for you,” you replied, picking at your salad. Your nerves were too high right now to even taste the stupid food. “So anyways, back to your magical and mysterious appearance?”

“Yeah.” He set the burger down and wiped his hands on a napkin, still clearly fidgeting in what could only be the same level of discomfort you had right now.

You waited patiently as he chugged half of his coffee, biting your lip to stop from smiling at his antics.

God, how you _missed_ him.

“So I wanted to talk to you today about something.” He leaned forward, pushing his plate aside and clasping his hands together. It looked like he was about to make you an offer you couldn’t refuse or have you sleep with the fishes, that’s how serious his expression was.

“O-Okay?”

Was this it? Was this the moment you’d been waiting for? Had he come to get you, to tell you he wanted you back?

“I need Sam Wilson’s number.”

_What the hell? Definitely not what you expected._

You tried to keep the disappointment off your face. “Bucky you know there’s a thing called Google, right?”

“Well I don’t really need his number yet, but I might, because I might need a good lawyer to help me transition. It all really depends on-“

You couldn’t handle the riddles anymore. “Bucky! If you have a point, feel free to arrive to it!”

He stared at you, giving a single nod. “I want to sell the garage, but I only want to sell it if you think there’s a chance for us, a second chance to make it work.”

You were pretty sure you stopped breathing for a second. “You- you _what_?

He heaved a big sigh. “Look, we were kids with adult problems back then, Y/N, we didn’t know what the hell we were doing. I sure didn’t, anyways. I didn’t know what it was like to be you, though I knew what it was like to hold you while you were crying because of something that happened. I just…I want to see if three years made any difference.”

“That’s a big step for a chance at something, Bucky.” Your heartbeat was picking up the pace, and your palms were sweating. “You built that business up to be profitable. They trust you and your name. You can’t just magically get that back someplace new.”

Bucky leaned back, wiping a hand down his face. “Ever since you were there, I have this vision of you stuck in my head. You’re sitting across from me in my office, and we’re sharing dinner, and we’re laughing and talking…I want that _all the time_ , Y/N. There are jobs for mechanics _everywhere_. We could be something like that, we could make it work if we just let go of the damn past.”

He sounded hopeful, downright positive about it, but not wholly convinced.

You chewed your lip, unsure of what to say. If it worked, it could be amazing. If it didn’t, it would be another way in which you’ve failed the love of your life. He would resent you, forever. Could you handle that?

“Bucky, this is a big decision.”

“We both need a fresh start, right? I don’t want to go back to that place with the ghost of you reminding me what an idiot I was to put my feelings on paper instead of talking to you about it face-to-face.” He leaned forward again. “That’s why I’m here, talking to you in-person.”

“How _did_ you find me, by the way?” You didn’t remember leaving your card or anything. In fact, you were pretty sure he didn’t even have your phone number.

“I called Darcy’s business number,” Bucky admitted sheepishly. “She told me – well, she wouldn’t give up anything about you or how you were or whatever. But she told me that if I felt like I wanted another shot, I should take it.”

“She didn’t say a word to me about it,” you mused, feeling your heart swell a little for your roommate. “The only thing she told me was not to try online dating.”

“You- you’re trying online dating?” he asked, his expression falling.

“No,” you assured him quickly. “I was messing with her this morning. She asked me what I was looking at on my laptop, because her boss had told me to sign up for it and give it a try, and I guess she got paranoid that I would. I was actually looking at new jobs.”

“Really? Why?”

“This is weird timing, and it’s going to sound totally made up, but I was- I looked for jobs closer- closer to you, this morning.”

His eyes lit up. “You want to move closer to me?”

Okay, so you figured now was as good a time as any to talk to him about your ‘meeting halfway’ idea. The sheer thought of this idea actually coming to fruition made you a little giddy.

“I can’t be here anymore,” you explained. “Bucky, it’s just like you said. There’s a little ghost of you following me around and I’d rather have the real thing. But I don’t want to move back _there_ , either. I think we should find someplace new and make it home, and Darcy and Steve or any of our friends can come visit us there.”

Bucky’s head tilted a little as he processed your words. “I need you to mean it, Doll. If we go for it, I want it to be for good this time. I want it all with you, and I’m not just talking a house. You’d be giving up this city life you always wanted, and I’d be giving up my business, and we would be starting back at square one.”

“But we’d be starting over together, Bucky, and that makes all the difference, don’t you think? Besides, I kind of already bookmarked this one town…you know, just as a potential place we can discuss…”

Bucky Barnes had the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen.

There weren’t any actors or models or socialites in all of New York who could possibly try to cosmetically capture how perfect it was. The sight of it gave you all the reassurance you could possibly need.

“So you’re saying I should call Sam, then,” he asked softly, reaching for your hand across the table and giving it a squeeze. “You’re saying it’s worth another shot?”

You placed your hand on top of his, offering your own bright smile. “ _We’re_ worth another shot.”

Bucky got up and came around to your side of the table, and you stood up too, figuring you might as well start meeting him halfway.

You didn’t realize that someone had spilled a little bit of water on the floor, and you ended up sliding right into his arms.

“Careful,” he murmured. “It’s a little slippy just there.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving even closer.

His kiss was even better than you remembered.


End file.
